Just violence for violence’s sake
May 13, 2011 § Leave a comment
Some jobs you take because you need the money.
The leather on his back was shredded in several places from filthy claws, and a writhing pile of mangy fury and clashing teeth tried to drag him under it and chew him into pieces. He did not fall under the press of their bodies. Rather, he growled himself, and over his face a translucent mask flickered, a skull with enormous fangs. His right hand swept and bodies tumbled away from him. That arm crashed into the metal post of the streetlight and it groaned and crumpled around the forearm.
Leaping back, the largest of the screeching, half human things snapped its prominent incisors only for the left arm to reach out and crush the entire face, muzzle, teeth, fur and even the bones of the snout. Still clutching the ruined face, that arm snapped once and used the wererat as a club to crush and mangle its brothers and sisters. Dropping the improvised club he started simply lashing about himself with arms stained with blood and flesh, claws that were not there cutting and tearing as main force shattered bones.
Then he stood atop a pile of mangled rats that walked like men, covered in their reeking blood and sour flesh. His beard matted with it, his hair strings of his own sweat mixed with it. The flickering image of the skull fading from his face, he panted and tried not to gag. The blood was even smeared up the cement walls of the loading dock behind the old Almacs (now a Shaws) supermarket. There were twelve of them dead in three piles.
He sometimes joked about being a glorified exterminator. Today, it wasn’t a joke. Feeling a pain in his left shoulder that he knew would dig its way down his back into his ribcage and eventually leave him barely able to sit up, he walked gingerly over the bodies and down the ramp towards Aqueduct Road. Waiting under the dome light above the Tony’s Pizza was a tall, thin, craggy faced man with steel grey hair and skin a shade past what his father had always called olive, but which just looked brown to him.
“You got all of them?”
“In the world? No. There’s still hundreds of them in Providence alone. But I got the ones living out in your dumpsters. You can go look if you want.” He hiked a thumb back down the alleyway, where the trail of bloody footprints led. “Personally, I’d definitely consider burning that before daylight. Unless you want to explain to people why there’s a huge pile of human sized rats behind your future development project.”
A grunt was the only answer, and the handing over of an envelope. It weighed about right. He placed it in the right inside pocket of his ruined jacket, which he was going to have to fix again. His sunken green eyes looked down at himself and just how covered in drying blood he was. His back burned where their claws had failed to tear him open, now that the ancient cave and its lord were gone from him.
“Not going to count it?”
“I just killed a whole lot of things. If you’re really dumb enough to rip me off after that, then good luck to you.” He turned away and began shuffling downhill, away from Aqueduct. “I gotta get a bath.”